


Click.

by supadeviant



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Eventual relationship, Its very one sided, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Lots of Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Some North and Markus, There are still Androids in a zombie apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:59:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supadeviant/pseuds/supadeviant
Summary: Click.The sound of a mechanical pencil being pressed down, extending the lead. His hand moved towards the paper, and sohis story began.'My name is Markus...





	Click.

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, I am not a very good writer and suck at sticking to plots sooo LETS JUST SEE WHERE THIS GOES. Also I apologise for this first chapter off the bat. It also is prolly a little short, just needed to get to the point y'know

Click. 

The sound of a mechanical pencil being pressed down, extending the lead. His hand moved towards the paper, and so 

his story began. 

‘My name is Markus. I’ve lived with my father Carl Manfred, for as long as I can remember. I never know if the memories I have of my childhood to be false or not.. Then again, androids don’t grow. So.. probably not.. it’s good to pretend now and then though. The world isn’t how it used to be, after most of the worlds population was wiped clean.. only to be replaced with the walking dead.. how it happened? I don’t know.. I don’t. With most those who created androids dead or.. the living dead, it was only a matter of centuries before we were wiped out. Of course we could sustain the harsh conditions.. the humans.. couldn’t. With no medicine, no health care, no hospitals, no schools, they were sure to be wiped out sooner than us. So all we did now you ask? Lived. We just lived in this miserable dead intoxicated world, constantly running, hiding. It was easier for me.. Carl though... I can’t remember the last time he had any type of medicine.. anything.... 

No.. he would be fine. He’s made it this far. That however didn’t mean it was easy.. it was just me and him.. We never found out if his biological son was alive or not... it devastated Carl. He told me once.. if I wasn’t around he probably would have died of a broken heart.. I thought that it was silly because I didn’t think that was possible.. but he was serious.. so I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much to say anymore really.. Carl still had hope..He hoped that one day someone would find a cure to this mess, he believed us remaining androids could do it.. if not then we would learn to make this planet into ours. He was always so positive. His positivity in this absolute hell made me smile still. I was glad, because there wasn’t much to smile about anymore.. I don’t even know what to write anymore.. I’m only doing this because Carl thought I needed some way to write out my feelings, I guess... 

I wonder if anyone is even alive 

I wonder if this is all hopeless 

I wonder..’ 

“Markus..” An elderly mans voice.. a familiar one rang through his captivated mind. He set the pencil down and looked up to find Carl.. his father.. pushing himself into the room with that familiar wheel chair.. it squeaked something awful, he mentally noted to fix that. 

“Yes?” The man with bicoloured eyes smiled as he closed the small journal and closed it. 

“Don’t you think it’s time we head out? Better to get ahead of those things fix thing in the morning after all.” 

Markus nodded and stood up, packing a number of things, a large case of medicine they were fortunate enough to have thanks to one of Carl’s close friends, Elijah Kamski. Markus wasn’t sure Carl would be alive now without him. If he was still alive out there.. he had to be sure to thank the man. 

It took him only about 3 minutes to gather their belongings from the camp they temporarily had set up. They could stay, those things always caught up and the one time they did.. it was close, too close for comfort. The two obviously came across plenty of them in their journey but it was usually only a few stray, nothing Markus couldn’t handle. He would never admit out, and he even refused to think it, but deep down he knew that he struggled to keep Carl safe sometimes. The wheel chair didn’t make things easy but Markus wouldn’t give up. He had no intention too. But Carl always brought it. 

The man pushed the other in silence, the occasional squeak from his chair as he did so, but other than that, it was radio silence. The air around them was dry and debris would occasionally float around with the soft breeze. The silence carried through out the small town the two were walking through, buildings left abandoned, shop windows busted in, graffiti here and there. It was ghost town. 

“Y’know Markus.. “ Carl begun. 

Step step step. 

Squeak squeak squeak. 

“You could get allot further witho—“ He continued 

“No.” Markus cut him off, knowing where he was going with this. “We’re not talking about this again, Carl.. “ 

Step step step. 

Squeak squeak squeak. 

“Listen to me, Markus.. I’m holding you back.” 

Squeak squeak. 

“Holding me back from what? There’s nothing left.. all I have is you..” He stopped and walked around, squatting in front of the chair, his hands laying on the elders knees, bi coloured eyes up the other. “I don’t have a reason to go on without you.. So please.. stop thinking you’re holding me back because you’re not.” 

Carl sighed, wrapping his hands around his son’s. “What happens when we run out of medication? I won’t live forever, Markus.” 

Step step step. 

“We survive. We hold ourselves together and just wait it out? It’s like you said.. someone will find a cure. Someday.. we just have to wait.” 

“I don’t have time to wait Markus..I’m old and.. humans are such fragile things.. we weren’t meant to outlive you.” 

Step step. 

“Carl please.” 

Step. 

It was like.. his whole world froze in that moment. How did he not notice? How didn’t he hear? The breathing he didn’t require stopped, his stomach he didn’t need, fell, his heart. The heart he didn’t have but somehow held feelings with, broke. Dirty, bony hands, grabbed Carl by the shoulders, shoving his chair down and Markus in the process. Before he had a moment to think, it had taken a bite.. The decayed teeth pulled at the strings of his flesh, the sounds of squelching and tearing, blood immediately gushing from the muscle that had become visible during the altercation. The screams of agony.. and pain.. rang through his ears. Finally, his world pressed resume and the sound of a gun shot had already filled the air of this dirty town. The body of one of those.. things rolling over. Dead. 

A moments notice the gun was dropped and he was beside Carl, over him, holding his hands, “Carl no.. Carl please no.. this can’t be happening no no.. Carl.” 

He repeated over and over again, hands holding the mans as tight as he could. Carl looked up, meeting his sons eyes, as blood rushed from his neck, spurring from his lips. He wasn’t going to make it. 

“Survive Markus... don’t let the world tell you who you are...” The man whispered in pain, his eyes slowly falling shut. 

“No.. no.. dad please.” Tears raining from his eyes, staining his cheeks as he begged for life to return to his fathers eyes. The words echoed in his head, but all he could feel was a burning in his chest.. Emotions.. Feelings.. Fear.. Pain.. So much. 

It hurt. 

The town was silent again as he rested his head on his chest, sobs as quiet as the air. 

Seconds... Minutes.. Hours.. Maybe even a day or so he lied there with him. He eventually found himself standing, holding his body as he carried him to a museum near by.. An art museum.. He buried him in front of it. Thinking it was a proper place for him. 

After he was done he stood there, pushing the wheel chair beside the grave, staring at it. 

Pulling out a pair of scissors he cut a strip of the seat off and tied it around his wrist before putting them away. He held a fist of to the sky, nonexistent heart heavy for a moment. Bringing his hands down, he slid the notebook out of his back pocket. 

Pulling out the pencil from his bag. 

Click. 

‘’Survive Markus’ he said, ‘Don’t let the world tell you who you are’. I’ll never forget these words. The words that changed my life. 

My name is Markus Manfred.

This is my story.


End file.
